The Curse


Our kids are outside, the snowballs are flying

Next to the woods where someone is dying

Then rushing of leaves

And thunderous heaves

Before a grizzly growl sent them scurrying and crying


The wind, rather chilly, was rustling through trees

But the howling they heard left the kids with knock-knees

A horror to behold

With a heart that’s stone cold

Comes a werewolf so mean it even repels fleas


Out of the tree-line and into the clearing

With eyes that are soulless, hate-filled, and leering

Fur covered in crud

And fangs dripping blood

Driven with bloodlust that’s painful and searing


The fear is bone-chillin’ for daughter and son

With but one thought between them, get home on the run

Then our son and our daughter

Let go of their water

While yelling for Daddy to bring out the big gun


The gun is Old Betsy; I’ve had her for years

A masculine heirloom that was blood bought with tears

When Granny Bigbooty

Was doing her duty

And saw her death coming in the reflection of mirrors


She’d been warned of a curse in our family tree

She gave it no thought—just an old fantasy

A human-type wolf

Conjecture—no proof

Till feasting on her flesh like a delicacy


I grabbed up Old Betsy and chambered a shell

I had but one thought, send the creature to hell

I took careful aim

At our family’s shame

And then pulled the trigger, intent on the kill


Old Betsy erupted with buckshot through fire

Saw blood from the beast, its condition is dire

The pellets were Sterling

Hit the beast while still twirling

Next to me it falls down in the muck and the mire


The crisis is over, our children are saved

With a tale to tell, and boy how they raved

So I hid the fear

That the curse was still here

I was nicked by the fangs; and blood I now craved